FRIENDS IN FEATHERS 



of grassy ground was covered by sumac, wild plum, red haw, 

 thorn, spice brush, papaw and vines of every native variety; 

 then the embankment sloped abruptly to the water which spar- 

 kled over clean pebbly shoals. Mercifully we were undis- 

 turbed. The location was farther from my home village or from 

 Ceylon than boys playing at the river cared to walk; the water 

 here was very shallow, so that bathing and fishing were impossi- 

 ble. I never left my carriage anywhere close the nest, but 

 approached it always from the river, so that workers in the field 

 would not see me and investigate. 



He was not only the biggest and reddest, but his beard was 

 the blackest and the longest witness the reproductions his 

 crest flared the highest, his whistle was the mellowest and he was 

 the tamest of all my Cardinal birds. It would interest no one 

 to be told how many plates I spoiled on him; in three instances 

 I pictured him at his level best, which paid for all failure, time 

 and expense. 



These pictures were secured by cutting off a living limb 

 on which he was accustomed to alight in a pause before he reached 

 his nest, then substituting a dead branch in its place. He never 

 seemed to know the difference, for soon it became a favourite 

 resort with him. He liked to sit there to be sprinkled during a 

 light shower. It was the finest place in the world to fluff and 

 dry after his morning bath. No other spot was so to his liking 

 for a sun-bath. 



The camera was concealed in the thick leaves of a 

 papaw bush a few feet away, a green strip was bound over 

 the shining brass of the lens, the camera was covered carefully 

 with leaves, then the exposures made with a big bulb and long 

 hose. 



A detailed story of all the time spent on these Cardinal nests 

 would fill a larger book than this, but a few incidents may be 



284 



